33 years ago, I was a little younger and certainly eager. It was night three of my first Crap Center run, and I was digging the large Pringle. For some reason, I was able to slip down low on Phil’s side for the first two nights, hassle free. When I felt like it, I could wander out onto the hallway concourse and hear the show through BGP’s remote speakers set up for that purpose. People crowded around them, spinning in floaty glory. Security generally sucked at the Crap Center, but I don’t remember them being that bad during this Dead run.

My sis was on tour in 1987, the whole year, and so wherever I went on tour, I had a place to rack: her truck. It was a sweet deal. We were all in our early-20s, blissed out on life and the Grateful Dead, and BGP let us crash on lot wherever the show landed, all except for MSG. The result was that we never planned a GD thing! We just showed up. Tickets, goods, cash, things changed hands, but I rarely remember much forethought except for the usual ticket scramble. Failing that, finger raised always did the trick.

This Crap Center run was my first of the fall, and it was great to be back after missing, ah, one month! They really did play a lot back then. In 1987, I saw the Grateful Dead in the months of March, April, July, September, and December, plus JGB in October, all with very little planning. When I scored NYE tickets, for example, my addled brain was like, “Oh, yeah, now I gotta fly to California. Huh.”

At this show, I ran into friends from both summer camp and both of my high schools. Bent out of shape with some Owsley, I had a hard time placing them. There were people from tour, home (and tour), one of the many towns my family had lived in, family, for that matter, college, life, all nooks and crannies were represented. This was the night where I just let all that go and sizzled the soup into one coagulating rue that was simply the Dead gumbo. Arms raised during Masterpiece, I spun into forgetfulness. There, I found myself looking back at myself and the journey to NOW.

What a treat it is to listen back to shows from a lifetime ago. I really have not explored these “ordinary” nights of music much over the years, always chasing down some Fillmore or out there 73 show. It’s refreshing to think that I was chasing something worthwhile in the 80s. This show stands the test of time.

Thanks, Jerry.

P.S. This aud has the widest dynamic range that I can hear. Phil is captured quite well.